


Dispatch in the Future

by Mistress_of_Universes



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Hydropower, My First AO3 Post, Trains
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-27
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-08-30 02:18:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16755979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mistress_of_Universes/pseuds/Mistress_of_Universes
Summary: A familiar scene, far in the future.Story was inspired by the piece of artwork “A traveler waits for a train” by Kirstin Zirngibl.





	Dispatch in the Future

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever time publishing my writing publicly. Please enjoy!

Quiet. The station was quiet. It was a peaceful quiet though; daylight streaming in through clear windows mixing with the sound of water crashing slightly on the edges of the tubes creating a perfect picture of serenity. On occasion, it would be interrupted by a large wave of water going through one of the tubes as another train pushed into the station. It suctions itself to the sides of glass tube, letting passengers move fluidly on and off. The suction effect stops and the train rushes forwards from the built-up water pressure.

People from the ground below come up in elevators,  _ding_ , and wait for the trains to come. Some people that get off the train look at the map on the wall and the time tables. _Whoosh_ , another train comes in and the groups shift, moving quietly and fluidly. A few people stay at the station, going up the ramp to the level their train will stop at. They sit at the benches until seats run out then take to standing and waiting. The quiet hum of the station returns, only broken by the quiet shuffling of feet from people who are still changing platforms. 

Soft curves sit in the sky, looking weightless while any passing observer would notice that it’s an illusion caused by the bright colors of the lattice metal rebar. They hold themselves suspended high above the people in the lower platform. Orange glass hexagons adorn the rebar, adding excitement to the amalgamation of tubes. A new mind from down in the city looking up may see the station to be a roller coaster, fast and flashy. The people just see the transportation. This has been, is, and always will be part of their life and the colors dull for them after time. At least they do for most.

Some people are always amazed by the creation. One person in particular seems entranced by the movement of the water, the colors in the sky, the usual  _ding_ , _whoosh_ and shuffling. Perhaps he doesn’t come this way often. Maybe he’s from out of town. The blue circles running down his biceps, the blue strips of paint encircling his crossed forearms, the blue mask with red embellishments painted right onto his face; everything about him just fits so perfectly with the atmosphere. His diversity compared to the rest of the passengers adorned in greys and blacks, sets him apart, as if he were the mysterious station, a blob of colors, just floating in the sky. It’s hard to believe that he doesn’t know about this place. Didn’t know. 

He looks ready for a party though it’s only about five o’clock. He stands, waiting, watching, a paper blower in his mouth, a red hat with a black, gearlike brim running around it and a black button sitting on top.

People move around him but he doesn’t ever move to board a train as it rushes in, nor does he walk over to greet a fellow passenger. He just stands, leaning on the red railing with blue glass panels. His eyes are filled with emotions: amazement, beauty, wonder, waiting, surprise, hope, warmth, excitement, sadness. A billion stories trying to all speak at once, to explain why he’s here, to explain why he’s waiting. His eyes try to betray him but fail their mission as no one stops and asks if he’s okay, why he’s waiting, who he’s waiting for. One can assume though. An elderly man in a grey jacket has been watching him. He chuckles slightly, knowing exactly what’s going on.

__ _Whoosh_. Another train comes in. More footsteps come up and down fire-treated, wooden stairs. The sun sinks a little lower in the sky but the people are still high above the red ground, the blue water, the old, glimmering city, towering up into the sky. 

Still a traveler waits for a train.


End file.
